Tuesday, August 30, 2011

A ghost sigh on the run from
A bone-built prison
Escaped with
A laughter exposed
Nude and telling through
The split second glint
In her left eye

She confessed,
"I love you as much as I can
Love a person but
You're still a person.

"I'm a little bit touched
A tad undercooked like
A half popped kernel of
Corn

"I know love only in
Seeing shadows cast
By Nothing in places of
Collective longing
Myself alone in crowds
Of robotic people
Fighting Distance
Seeking Time.

"And by the bay beyond
The people
A little boy dreams
I watch him grow old
In attempts to manifest
Painted worlds
Clay deities and
Wooden fauna
Sculpting statues of far away thoughts
That populate alien kingdoms
Which have reached their demise
With the death of planet Childhood.

"All of this in the mound he builds
Of sand
Patting gently as he gazes
At the sun path on the water
And does not speak
He listens to the singing of
The breeze and

"I know him.

"He is the fabled artist
Exhaling blue shadows
He speaks in echos of secrets
Leaked by the Divine

"His vision is Heaven
And in it resides
Only snake skins of
Love.

"This is why..."

Snapping a dry twig
With unruly, anxious fingers
Her naked feet
Pushed the rocks
Into the stream and with
Half sun-blinded eyes
She witnessed them tumble one
After another
Like a mass stone suicide.

"Nothing is ever quite
Beautiful enough
The more clear it becomes
The more exquisite the sound
Of the forming crack in a glass heart
Whining like an injured cherub
As it tries desperately to reach
What is far too fragile
For the human touch
That wants nothing but
An end to desire
That promises nothing but
Fingerprints
Left as careless badges
of a spiritual crime."

ANYMORE

I could try to save
Another day or I could call
The demi-gods and complain
"You're only half romantic
You're just an image of The Way
And I can only almost see you
Like cloudy distorted bodies
Pissing sun on a sleeping world."

I could try to scrape divine traces
From my floor but
I don't want to love
And I don't want to feel loved
Anymore

9

My promises to you were whispered
To the wind who did me a favor and
Wrote them as maps
In the veins of spring leaves.
Aging into skeletons, they never insinuated
Anything as glorious as a toothy moon smile
Through black lace canopies
Not even something so
Tiny and missable to the eye as
A snail on your walk home
In scattered thunderstorms.

You can read them every autumn,
And I hope that you will,
Should you care to find my reason
Which was something that would
Have drowned in words
You would have thought
"She left me, for letters strung
Together."

I had thought in my naivité
That it was everyone else
Who was always leaving so
I waited for you to go

And you did.

But Memory has taught me that I went first
In that moment when
My gaze strayed from yours
Gradually drifting beyond the
Horizon as you watched me

Fall in love with the world
Letting me float into it
Without you

HAIKU 4 U

I broke your record
Player; you made my heart skip
Let's call it even

I left with your things
You left with years of my life
Wasted; we're screaming

I took it harder
You took it all for granted
I felt like your slut

Said I'd wait for you
In that torrential limbo
Then the downpour ceased

Warmed by the sunshine
You wanted everything
Back; I turn away

When you locked the door
I stopped wanting to go back
Inside; you look out

I owe you nothing
You owe me five hundred bucks
A reason, at least

THIS WICKED WAY

Something drives me toward the death inside
This vibrant imagination beyond worlds
Is too beautiful, too eternal, and too fast for
My mind's eye to keep I
Pray to forget, give me gray
A vast expanse of land with no horizon
That I cannot differentiate between this planet
And space
That I cannot differentiate between body and
Spirit
That I may sleep away from beauty
That I may forget this wicked way
And decompose into the earth as
A leaf abandoned by a soaring wind

Thursday, August 25, 2011

These are the masks we will be using for a Greek tragedy/dual mythological aspect; From left to right is the minotaur (can't really see the bull form yet without the horns and details), Icarus, Hetia (goddess of structure, hearth and home) and then on the bottom (which I clearly have not started yet) is going to be the Sphinx!

In September we will be showing "The Misunderstanding" by Albert Camus. Here is a brief plot summary from Wikipedia:

"A man who has been living overseas for many years returns home to find his sister and widowed mother are making a living by taking in lodgers and subsequently murdering them. Since neither his sister nor his mother recognize him, he becomes a lodger himself without revealing his identity."

Once again, for Boston Experimental Theatre, I am in charge of the costumes, set and music (whew!)

Here are many photos of the process so far!

This last one is a picture of yours truly getting mask forms for people's faces!